The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1887-07-20

"The red rose cries. SHE is near, she is near =
And the white rose weeps, She is late
The larkspur listens-T hear, hear;
And the lilly whispers, L wait.
Given perfect summer; given the FRESH
scent of roses and murmuring breezes
floating; given our own time and purse
we'll lined, and We may consider the season
a perfect symbol of happy world.
Yet some people, apparently possessing
all thes5 ingredients, can not make then
cake, and seem to have hard time realiZ-
ing good time. They seem never to have
learned as a fact in experience what exists
i'll theory, that summer vacations are in
tended as times of recreation. On the
other hand, they do as much worrying.
planning and real hard labor in attempting
10 have n recreation as Is necessary to ac-
conyplish most stupendous business un.
dertaking.
But then a summer holiday is a moment
Gus happening, and there never was any,
thing of moment accomplished in this
world without work.
Devotion is a feminine characteristic,
and every capable woman is devoted heart
and soul to some object or other, and that
makes up her life. Some are devoted to
charity. They coax and beg, they wish
and tune, and deny themselves Injuries
in its name. Others rise early and go to
bed late in their fanatical devotion to
woman rights and wrongs. A few wom-
en- devote themselves TO their children and
poodles, or kill themselves trying to live in
perfectly kept house.
But for concentrated persistency and I'M
wearyful enthusiasm commend me TO the
woman on the hunt for pleasure. She is
not content with any half service. She
supenders herself completely to its con-
temptation and contamination.
She will beard the lion who holds the
purse until he consents to allow her to
half kill herself getting ready for the
jaunt, while he meekly disgorges in very
self defense.
the sewing machine, months, in order that
she may be properly dressed for her few
weeks of pleasure.
And when she is started she has no time
for eRnui or to ask if life is worth living.
She will climb miles in tight shoes to
gaze upon grand and impressive scenery.
She will blink her eyes and go picnicking
in delicious state of mind, with The
thermometer at ninety-seven degrees, at
tended by swarm of satellites of flies,
mixers, and mosquito
She will array herself in sheen muslins
and never think of the hot, sitting hours
spent over the ironing table in their prepa-
ration.
She will loll back in her shaded car
riage and enjoy the air caused by the
motion, and never think of The horses trot-
ting in the hot sunshine, in heavy harness,
without a parasol.
How in the world is she to stop and
think of such things. 1t is q good thing
she does not. What would become of the
world if she did? We would all become
hermits, Puritans, and there would be no
pleasure left in the world.
May the spirit Of self sacrifice still en-
thrall her and encourage her to keep the
wheel moving.
If with it all she could manage in lit
tie more retirement, and,on these summer
trips live in something resembling semi
seclusion, we would forgive her freely.
Privacy may be out of fashion, but many
people do still enjoy it.
The light of her gorRousness need not
be hidden under bushel; just let her cover
up n half bushel of it. Confidentially, la
dies, it will add to your ecidt.
This Is naturally n good-natured and
generous sphere. II exults in all your
freaks and frolics in society, but it is apt
to grow ill-tempered when you push upon
it your private affairs.